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Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | SCD J FICTION FAR 5 DISCS | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Wildwood Library (Mahtomedi) | SCD J FICTION FAR 5 DISCS | Searching... Unknown |
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Summary
Summary
First published in 1941, Walter Farley's bestselling novel for young readers is the triumphant tale of a boy and a wild horse. From Alec Ramsay and the Black's first meeting on an ill-fated ship to their adventures on a desert island and their eventual rescue, this beloved story will hold the rapt attention of readers new and old.
"The Black Stallion is about the most famous fictional horse of the century."--The New York Times
Author Notes
Walter Farley was born in Syracuse, New York on June 26, 1915. He began writing The Black Stallion when he was a student at Columbia University and completed it while working as an advertising copywriter in New York City. It was an immediate success when it was published in 1941. During World War II, he served in the army where he wrote the second book in the series, The Black Stallion Returns. After his discharge from the service in 1946, he became a full-time author. He wrote 20 novels in the Black Stallion series. His also wrote a fictionalized biography of America's greatest Thoroughbred, Man O'War. He died of heart failure on October 17, 1989 at the age of 74.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (1)
Horn Book Review
Lively black-and-white drawings and an informative interview-format foreword are new additions to this golden anniversary edition of the equestrian classic. From HORN BOOK 1991, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Homeward Bound 1 The tramp steamer Drake plowed away from the coast of India and pushed its blunt prow into the Arabian Sea, homeward bound. Slowly it made its way west toward the Gulf of Aden. Its hold was loaded with coffee, rice, tea, oil seeds and jute. Black smoke poured from its one stack, darkening the hot cloudless sky. Alexander Ramsay, known to his friends back home in New York City as Alec, leaned over the rail and watched the water slide away from the sides of the boat. His red hair blazed redder than ever in the hot sun; his tanned elbows rested heavily on the rail as he turned his freckled face back toward the fast-disappearing shore. It had been fun--those two months in India. He would miss Uncle Ralph, miss the days they had spent together in the jungle, even the screams of the panthers and the many eerie sounds of the jungle night. Never again would he think of a missionary's work as easy work. No, sir, you had to be big and strong, able to ride horseback for long hours through the tangled jungle paths. Alec glanced down proudly at the hard muscles in his arms. Uncle Ralph had taught him how to ride--the one thing in the world he had always wanted to do. But it was all over now. Rides back home would be few. His fist opened. Lovingly he surveyed the pearl pocketknife he held there. The inscription on it was in gold: To Alec on his birthday, Bombay, India. He remembered, too, his uncle's words: "A knife, Alec, comes in handy sometimes." Suddenly a large hand descended on his shoulder. "Well, m'boy, you're on your way home," a gruff voice said, with a decidedly English accent. Alec looked up into the captain's wrinkled, wind-tanned face. "Hello, Captain Watson," he answered. "It's rather a long way home, though, sir. To England with you and then to New York on the Majestic." "About four weeks' sailing all in all, lad, but you look like a pretty good sailor." "I am, sir. I wasn't sick once all the way over and we had a rough crossing, too," Alec said proudly. "When'd you come over, lad?" "In June, sir, with some friends of my father's. They left me with my uncle in Bombay. You know my Uncle Ralph, don't you? He came aboard with me and spoke to you." "Yes, I know your Uncle Ralph. A fine man, too. . . . And now you're going home alone?" "Yes, sir! School opens next month and I have to be there." The captain smiled and took Alec by the arm. "Come along," he said. "I'll show you how we steer this ship and what makes it go." The captain and crew were kind to Alec, but the days passed monotonously for the homeward-bound boy as the Drake steamed its way through the Gulf of Aden and into the Red Sea. The tropic sun beat down mercilessly on the heads of the few passengers aboard. The Drake kept near the coast of Arabia--endless miles of barren desert shore. But Alec's thoughts were not on the scorching sand. Arabia--where the greatest horses in the world were bred! Did other fellows dream of horses the way he did? To him, a horse was the greatest animal in the world. Then one day the Drake headed for a small Arabian port. As they approached the small landing, Alec saw a crowd of Arabs milling about in great excitement. Obviously it was not often that a boat stopped there. But, as the gangplank went down with a bang, Alec could see that it wasn't the ship itself that was attracting all the attention. The Arabs were crowding toward the center of the landing. Alec heard a whistle--shrill, loud, clear, unlike anything he had ever heard before. He saw a mighty black horse rear on its hind legs, its forelegs striking out into the air. A white scarf was tied across its eyes. The crowd broke and ran. White lather ran from the horse's body; his mouth was open, his teeth bared. He was a giant of a horse, glistening black--too big to be pure Arabian. His mane was like a crest, mounting, then falling low. His neck was long and slender, and arched to the small, savagely beautiful head. The head was that of the wildest of all wild creatures--a stallion born wild--and it was beautiful, savage, splendid. A stallion with a wonderful physical perfection that matched his savage, ruthless spirit. Once again the Black screamed and rose on his hind legs. Alec could hardly believe his eyes and ears--a stallion, a wild stallion--unbroken, such as he had read and dreamed about! From the Trade Paperback edition. Excerpted from The Black Stallion by Walter Farley, Walter Farley All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.